


You're safe with me!

by ohutblog



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - War, Hurt John Sheppard, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Rodney McKay, Wraith (Stargate)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:22:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22100977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohutblog/pseuds/ohutblog
Summary: Alternative UniverseOn the ninth day, he had given up getting a word out of the man. After military operations, flyboy with the crazy hair came to his lab, lay down on his couch and closed his eyes. The clicking of his keyboard and the muttered complaints about his colleagues seemed to have something soothing for him. Rodney wasn't one who was good with other people, but if he could give the pilot some rest before the long-lasting war against the wraith started again, he was only too happy to do so and of course there was no intention of giving the exhausted man gentle strokes through his hair as his sleep became restless.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 12
Kudos: 89





	1. Prologue

Atlantis.

For Rodney McKay, this name still sounded like a distant dream, but it should soon become reality for him and many other scientists.

He remembered too well how he had worked with Jackson to make sure that the recently discovered ancient technology cooperated and responded to their desired commands. However, this task seemed more difficult than expected. Of course it hadn't been his fault, thank you very much, but he had lacked an important aspect so that he could really decipher the secrets behind the devices. The ATA gene. 

It had annoyed Rodney that such a simple thing had prevented him from doing his job correctly. Nobody in this base had known more about this technology than he did and no one could have convinced him otherwise! Most of the time, he had been busy fixing the mistakes his so-called colleagues had made. Sometimes he didn't know if they had won their doctorates on a freaking gaming show. At least they hadn't been able to keep up with his knowledge. 

Well, there had been exceptions like Zelenka, but he was sure that if they had let him work in peace he would have achieved the required workload faster. No annoying small talk, no interruptions and, above all, no anxious doctor who had the gene, but unfortunately wasn't able to use it.

His face transformed into a grimace even today when he thought of Beckett. They could explain to him ten times that he was a genius in his field of expertise, but besides his vodoo methods, he couldn't do much with his precious gene. Each time there had been either a lack of concentration or he had been too worried to blow up the whole base. With Carson's luck, he would probably have made it if he had been seated in the ancestor's chair long enough. He would never forget the incident when the doctor had been once able to do his job after Rodney had almost forced him to sit tight all day long and listen to what the chair had to offer. But as life was like that, this vodoo priest had of course fired a drone without being able to control it. Just on the day that O'Neill was flown in. Fortunately, no one had been injured and instead they had discovered a new gene carrier that lit up their devices like a Christmas tree.

Sadly, Rodney couldn't get to know the man, because of their discovery, everything had changed too fast. After Jackson had been able to find the right code for the stargate of Atlantis, the military had packed up his things faster than one could say ancestor. Although the expedition was to be led by a civilian, the government had wanted to be on the safe side and sent dozen of young, well-trained marines through the gate. However, the energy couldn't be maintained long enough that there had been enough time to secure the city and then to let the scientists through. Suddenly the connection was broken.

The SGC had of course tried everything to help the soldiers in Atlantis or to create a stable wormhole again in order to be able to send or receive informations, but every attempt had resulted in failure. 

Only a year later, with the help of a charged ZPM, contact could be made. But the reports they had got showed them that things like war and death were raging in other galaxies too. The military obviously had to struggle with aliens which could feed on your life. Although they had had help from natives, the Athosians, there had taken heavy losses.

Rodney had soaked up the reports like a sponge, which were surprisingly scientifically sound. Later, he had to thank this Major Sheppard for it and ask him where the hell he got this knowledge from. However, what worried him were the missions that had to be carried out almost constinuously in the past months to defend the city against the Wraith. It wasn't only once that there had been more luck than judgement, considering that the commanding officer of the expedition had been killed on the second day, so the Canadian didn't really want to know how the other soldiers had fared. After all, they had also sent inexperienced men through the gate who probably hadn't even survived their first week. Even if the military was none of his business, the thought that there were beings out there that even the highly praised marines couldn't handle, gave him a huge headache. He wasn't ready to die yet.

But there was no time to think about it, because in the background the commands could be heard that the stargate should be activated. Next to him, he could feel Beckett shifting nervously from one leg to the other and Zelenka uttering something incomprehensible in czech. Rolling his eyes, he checked his tac vest and named his private things in his head which he absolutely wanted to take with him on this journey because he wanted to be ready for anything. 

However, when it was his turn to walk through the gate, nothing could have prepared him for what he found on the other side and the shocked 'oh my god' behind him, confirmed that this wasn't a research trip, but rather a war zone.


	2. Atlantis might have a chance!

Rodney stood speechless in front of the stargate, possibly blocking the way of all other people, but he couldn't care less. The picture in front of him was worse than he had imagined in his nightmares. The city, which was always described in the database as the epitome of hope and beauty, was in ruins, at least for the most parts.

He took an uncertain step forward and looked up. They seemed to be in the main tower. From his position, he could see that a number of marines were handling devices which were obviously control desks. A big screen opened behind them that was supposed to show maps of Atlantis. Alarmingly, more areas were displayed in red than green. 

"Come on, Rodney. Move!"

The Canadian was rudely pushed aside by Carson, who hurriedly walked past him when he discovered an injured soldier. The Scot quickly knelt down to him, but the man struggled and began to gesticulate. Still dismayed by the sight of the city, McKay heard only pieces of their discussion, but phrases like 'it's okay' and 'the others are worse than me' were mentioned more than once, giving the scientist no new hope. 

Just as Rodney was wondering whether he should go back to earth through the gate, a short scream and sparks that seemed to come from the control room made him wake from his shock. 

"What do you think you're doing?"

McKay ran up the stairs as fast as he could. The men who were supposed to operate the control panels looked overwhelmed. Either Atlantis was in worse shape than he thought, or the soldiers were one of the few who weren't injured and still be able to sit in an upright position. An anxious voice in his head suspected the latter.

With a quick wave of his hand, he instructed the marine closest to the small explosion to move out of the smoking area and let him handle this before one of these grunts blew up the entire city. As he successfully connected his laptop to the panels, he ran a number of programs which could reveal the malfunctions and damage. 

While he was waiting for the results, he could see from the corner of his eye that Zelenka, who had the same idea, immediately went to work without complaints to find out which parts could be saved and which not. Unfortunately, both of them weren't too hopeful. The reports had been clear. Many areas of Atlantis were not only damaged, but also partially filled with water. It was remarkable enough that the city had managed to rise to the surface from the bottom of the sea, which was probably an ancient fail-safe not to end as food for the fish, but sadly their men had had no real chance to keep her dry for a long time, thanks to a monstrous storm. However, according to the database, such disturbances only occurred every twenty to thirty years and were probably considered a minor problem. At the top of their list were the ongoing war against the Wraith, the tensions between Lanteans and the Genii and a secure supply of the city with electricity, running water and, above all, effective shields.

The beeping of his computer informed him that his analysis was finished, and obviously, the damage was huge. On earth, he would have said that it would be easier if the city were simply torn down and rebuilt, which, in this case, was more than impossible. A look at Radek showed him that he must have had similar thoughts because his face also reflected pure horror.

**** 

After two days without sleep, Zelenka and McKay had managed to list all their problems and classify them in such a way that repairs were made according to urgency and not, as before, patching everything up half-heartly because you just needed it. Of course, everyone had unstood, since it had been more important to put things in order that were helpful in fight against the Wraith, but now, that they not only had a charged ZPM, but also more staff and building materials, Atlantis hopefully could regain her old glory soon. 

The injured soldiers were also finally able to receive adequate medical care because Dr. Beckett and his team had managed to put the infirmary into operation, which was currently occupied to the maximum and anyone who could still walk had to wait for their recovery in their own rooms, or in this case, rather shared rooms. Due to the attacks and the storm, many parts of the city became uninhabitable and soldiers as well as civilians had to share the existing space. Now that more and more people had arrived via Deadaleus, the problem was quicker to solve, but emergency shelters, in form of sleeping bags and mattresses in common areas, had to be set up. Understandably, men and women who had injuries got the available quaters, but Rodney could well imagine that in a few weeks there could be an increased dispute. Stress and the lack of privacy pushed everyone to their limits.

For this reason, he was mostly found in his lab or in the mess hall, which wasn't filled with beds, but was actually still used for getting food. He thanked every deity in the universe for it, because if he stumbled once more over a slumbering botanist or accidentally kicked a knife across the room just because a paranoid marine couldn't fall asleep without it, he might throw himself from the next balcony. 

Annoyed, Mckay noticed that his cup was empty. Again. But he didn't feel like squeezing through the crowded corridors and had to apologize at least a hundred times because he had stepped on someone's fingers or guns. It wasn't hard to see that he was not very gracile by nature, you shouldn't expect that he was now able to wriggle through the masses like a snake. Why couldn't people just go out of his way when they saw him?

But Rodney couldn't go on with his inner monologue, as a man came through the door, which he had actually sealed, and sat down in the next corner without saying a word. 

"Well, hello to you, too. I don't know if you noticed, but I didn't keep the doors locked for no reason. You are obviously a military man and I hardly believe that you have the slightest idea of what I'm doing here and before you touch anything that could blow us up in the end, please, do me a favor and just go back from where you came from."

After minutes of silence, the man seemed to have no intention of going out of McKay's lab. On the contrary, the intruder leaned even further into the corner and seemed to want to literally disappear into the wall. 

Slowly, the man's behavior scared Rodney. At a second glance, he could see that his unwanted visitor was trembling. Shaking hands, causing the man to clench his fists, as if he could force his body to keep still with pure willpower. However, it was clear that the soldier had reached his limits, not only the tremor was an indication, no, but also his almost emaciated face, the dark circles under his eyes and the pale skin, which stood in stark contrast to his brown, tangled hair. 

"Are you alright?"

The scientist slapped himself internally. It was more than obvious that the man in front of him was anything but fine. He still didn't want to be responsible for a death that could possibly have been avoided just because he informed Beckett too late. 

More minutes passed and fortunately, his visitor wasn't about to keel over dead, but he wasn't talking either which annoyed Rodney the most, because he had much more important things to do than playing babysitter for a stray soldier who might have been hit on the head one too many times and no longer knew where he was, even if McKay didn't think one could confuse his lab with the gym or the shooting range. However, the guy should do whatever he wanted. It wasn't his business, not anymore. Grumbling, he turned back to his laptop and tried, as always, to erase his colleagues' mistakes. He knew that he couldn't save Atlantis on his own, but that didn't stop him to control their work because the Canadian only trusted the would-be science of his employees as far as he could throw them. Four clicks later, he had already discovered the first mistake.

"Oh my god! I can't believe it! How can someone wrongly calculate such a simple equation? My two-year-old niece would be able to solve things like that, probably scribbled with finger paint on the wallpaper of my sister's bedroom, but who cares. One would think that the SGC only sent experts on this expedition. No, of course not! Even people like Kavanagh get a nice, warm place in Atlantis, although he wouldn't come up with the simplest solution if it jumped right into his face. What does the government want to prove? Well, they probably had to reach a quota of mentally disadvantaged scientists to avoid being charged with discrimination. I can't explain it any other way. What do you say, military man? Hm? You are an US-American cit..."

Rodney suddenly paused in his tirade as he turned to the man to find out why the United States had hired such idiots for their project, only to see him exhausted and with his eyes closed, leaning against the wall. As he approached, he could see that his visitor had fallen asleep. Sighing, he went to the old couch, took the blanket which he had stolen from the infirmary a few days ago and placed it over the skinny figure who had obviously chosen the lab as his new place to sleep.

He couldn't change it anymore, because even though many of his colleagues thought he was arrogant and cold, he had a heart and it was more than clear to see that the soldier needed some rest. Shrugging, he turned to his whiteboard to write Kavanagh's equation on it. If the fool couldn't solve such simple math on his own, then his knowledge was required. He couldn't wait to confront the employee with his mistake in presence of his team. 

First, however, he would take a short break. After all, he had been sitting here all day long and as he pondered whether he shouldn't get another coffee, Rodney didn't notice how his eyes closed as well and how he fell asleep on his office chair in an uncomfortable position. 

The next morning was much too early, but some noises had woken him. Groaning, he rubbed his neck. He must have spent the night sitting here. Well, his back would thank him with pain and cramps. When the scientist looked at the watch next to him, the glowing numbers indicated that it was only five am and that he could have actually slept for two more hours. At least, he would have time to correct Kavanaghs mistakes.

McKay got up and his gaze fell in the direction of where his unwanted companion had slept. However, he was surprised to find that the man was no longer there. Confused, he turned around, only to find his blanket, neatly folded, on his couch and to see the equation standing, correctly solved, on his board.

***

After the last encounter with his sleeping guest, Rodney couldn't think of anything else. How had this man managed to solve the equation and why the hell had he not noticed that someone had tampered with his whiteboard? He usually didn't sleep so tightly that he wouldn't notice if someone was wandering around his lab. So, how was that possible?

Of course, the Canadian had used the opportunity to take revenge on Kavanagh. This man was a threat to the whole expedition and that's why he was only too happy to provide evidence which would confirm his statement. Who knew, maybe the detested scientist already had a seat on the next flight back to earth, when the Deadaleus would start her mission, and Atlantis would be freed from stupidity once more. 

Be that as it may, the fact that it wasn't him who got the equation right had spoiled his mood drastically. How did the man do this? He had never met a soldier who had such profound mathematical knowledge. Maybe Samantha Carter, but she was an exception. One could see in her case that the universe wasn't fair, not only was she incredibly intelligent, she also looked stunning. And he was, well, he was Rodney McKay. 

However, this incident prompted him to keep an eye open and maybe there would be another chance for him to meet the stranger. He even went so far that, on particularly stressful days, mostly after small encounters with the Wraith or other disasters, he no longer locked his doors to the lab, hoping that the military man would come by to find some rest. But after three days, there still seemed to be no sign that his visitor would show up again, nor was he to be found in the city. He had to admit that between the improved night camps, repairs and medical emergencies, one quickly lost track of the people who surrounded you and would make it impossible to find a specific person. Radak had discovered sensors a few days ago which recorded the resident's life signs and positions, but unfortunately these were not yet set correctly and needed to be recalibrated.

With a frustrating sigh, Rodney finally made his way to the conference room. The first official meeting of the senior officers was to take place this afternoon and he couldn't afford any weakness. So far, there had been disagreement about who should take over the leadership of Atlantis. Obviously, the military had been in charge, but it was originally decided that a civilian should have this position. In the end, it didn't matter, since most of the decicions had been made spontaneously in passing next to sleeping scientists and injured men, but people couldn't function properly with their ongiong lack of structur because without an order, especially soldiers seemed to have problems to carry out important tasks. That's why they had to create a clear chain of command today, so that these idiots could no longer cause delays in the city's reconstruction. 

McKay, however, was less worried about his own position as the new Chief Science Officer, which he would definitely get, since nobody else could compete with his brilliant mind and therefore, he would be the best choice for the job. No, he was more afraid of who would take on the role of Colonel Sumner. Should Elizabeth take over the leadership of the expedition, she would need a second-in-command and Rodney would rather eat a lemon than to endure Caldwell's bossy attitude any longer. 

With his cup of coffee, the Canadian sat on a chair next to a monitor, just in case someone should doubt his competence, he had a memory stick in his pocket on which he had stored his most successful moments of his career.

After a few minutes, the room filled up more and more. Next to him sat Beckett and Zelenka, who hadn't submitted an application, but would automatically get the postion as his right hand if McKay should be appointed as CSO. Weir and Caldwell sat at the other end of the table. The two seemed to be engrossed in a conversation which wasn't fun at all, at least if one interpreted the tense facial features correctly.

Shortly after Weir announced that they should start the meeting, another person slipped into the room before the doors closed. No one really paid attention to him, but Rodney was frozen. In a corner stood his mysterious visitor whom he had desperately tried to find. He couldn't believe his eyes, but he would recognize the man everywhere, his tousled hair alone was a clear indication of his identity and a crime against any law of gravity. At least, he didn't look as exhausted as he did a few days ago. His face was still pale, but the dark circles under his eyes weren't as prominent as the last time. That didn't mean that he was satisfied with the appearance. The man was still too thin and immediately he wanted to offer him one of his protein bars, which the scientist always carried with him. As he considered doing just that, Elizabeth interrupted his inner thoughts.

"Welcome. Finally, we found time to sit down together at one table. But before we get to the important part, on the behalf of the SGC I'd like to thank those who have done such excellent work on the repairs over the past few days. A special thank also goes to the courageous soldiers who maintained their position on Atlantis and fought bravely against the Wraith. We'll never forget your commitment, nor will we forget those who fell and gave their lives for our dream. And so, I am more than pleased that I still can count on the help of our friends, the Athosians. Even if she's not an offical member of the SGC, I'm glad to welcome Teyla to this very meeting. She is the leader of her people."

Everbody's attention in the room was now focused on a beautiful woman, who showed an open and warm smile on her face. Weir continued.

"Hopefully, you're actually aware of the reason for our meeting. We are here to set up a clear chain of command and to decide who will head the various departments. Fortunately, two decisions are very easy for me to make, which also leads me to Dr. McKay and Dr. Beckett, who I would like to appoint as CSO and CMO. If anyone has any objection, please speak now. But I want to point out that since the beginning of our mission in Antarctica, both men have led incredible work in der their fields of expertise. McKay is probably one of the leading experts in ancient technology alongside Daniel Jackson, and Beckett has more than clearly demonstrated to us in the past few days that he's not only a fabulous geneticist, but also an excellent doctor."

With these words, Elizabeth gave the participants in the room some time to think and to raise possible objections, but nobody said anything which wasn't surprising at all. Many of them were members of the military and they couldn't care less who would take over the management of the scientific departments. The few doctors who had placed themselves respectfully behind Beckett didn't seem to have any problems with the decision either. Carson was a kind-hearted man and obviously a good leader, which probably meant that no one would say anything contrary to the man. 

McKay, himself, had expected more resistance to Weir's choice about the CSO. During her praising words, he had clearly seen how Zelenka had rolled his eyes and couldn't ignore Kavanagh's angry snort. He might not be the most pleasant person to work with, but no one could say anything against his mind. His biggest weapon was his brain, with which he was able to solve even the most difficult problems. 

"All right. Since nobody's commented against my decisions, we now come to the difficult part. The government had decided at the time, that the expedition should be led by a civilian. This hasn't changed. Before we left for Atlantis, I got the president's approval that I should continue to lead our mission. So, we have to choose someone who will have the say about military matters."

As if that were his key word, Colonel Caldwell straighted his posture and looked expectantly around. One could clearly see that he considered himself the best choice for the job.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, many of you see Colonel Caldwell as the best option, but I want to send a second candidate to the race,so to say. That's why I also nominate Lt. Colonel John Sheppard."

Caldwell couldn't have looked more horrified. His gaze immediately stuck to Rodney's nightly visitor, who was still standing quietly in the corner. And suddenly everything made sense for McKay. This man wasn't a brain-dead soldier, but the very Major Sheppard, who had led the military in the city when they had been cut off from earth. He had had to shoot his commanding officer when he ended up as food for the Wraith. Back then, after months of trying to make contact with Atlantis again, the Major's reports were the ones which Rodney had soaked up like a sponge, was it about the activation of various devices, the discoveries and functions of the puddle jumpers or about possible new gate adresses that had been found in the databases to find allies against the Wraith and to meet trading partners for food, so as not to die of starvation. The best thing about it was that these reports had always contained a scientific note. 

For him, it was clear to see that the man had done something incredible and that he had cared for the people under his command so that they had had a real chance against their enemies. Why should they bother with Caldwell at all? 

"Are you serious, Dr. Weir? I doubt that the IOA would approve such a decision. As we all know, Colonel Sheppard has some black marks in his files. He was accused of disregarding direct orders and unable to recognize a clear chain of command."

But before Caldwell could go on, Teyla raised her hand and asked to speak freely.

"Even if John was accused of such things, I can proudly say that he had shown faultless behavior, here, in Atlantis. He is a brave warrior and has a good heart, just a man you can trust, otherwise my people would not have worked with him. He freed us from the clutches of the Wraith." 

Elizabeth nodded approvingly, but when Rodney saw that Caldwell gave Bates a sign that he should also say something, possibly some nasty failures from Sheppard's past, he adressed the word to Weir himself.

"Yes, the man's a hero. I think, we all got the point. Honestly, I don't care about his career! What interests me a lot more, is, that Sheppard doesn't seem to be a complete idiot. On earth, I read all of his reports which he had written in Atlantis as a non-scientist and I have to admit that I was able to follow his explanations and his reasons very well. Just a few days ago, the Colonel offered to help me with a math problem, an equation which my team misinterpreted and had to be corrected. I can't believe that I'm saying this, but he did the job better than my colleagues, which not only confirms Sheppard's intellect, but also proves that I'm surrounded by fools."

After his speech, the meeting had to be interrupted. Kavanagh had experienced a tantrum because he was portrayed as stupid and unreliable in front of his team mates and Caldwell also got a kind of episode due to McKay's description of him as an incapable commanding officer. Of course, Rodney was then thrown out of the room and was no longer allowed to witness the following dicussions.

Which he didn't have to, since later Zelenka's smile betrayed him more than thousands words. The bossy colonel had lost and Sheppard was now Weir's second-in-command. If they could get rid of Kavanagh, Atlantis might still have a chance to survive.


	3. Chapter 3

The night after their first meeting, McKay was sitting in his lab for a long time. He needed to be at a distance between Zelenka and his fellow colleagues, as they were still busy discussing about what had happened this afternoon. Kavanagh and Caldwell were, of course, the current favorites in the gossiping section.

At the beginning, it was very amusing that practically the entire Atlantis workforce knew about the incident in the conference room within a few hours. It was clear that neither his annoying employee, nor the idiot of a colonel, had done their reputations a favor with letting themselves go in such a way in front of their teams. Even though, he could understand that his words had been kind of insulting, but you could have expected a certain level of professionalism, especially from Kavanagh, who had threatened that Elizabeth would regret her actions by allowing McKay to speak to him like this without any consequences, which meant that he had been accompained to his quaters by a security detail. However, the Canadian admired Kavanagh for it, since a certain degree of stupidity was necessary to confront the leader of the expedition in presence of the military with unfounded threats. So, he hadn't been wrong about the man and hoped he would finally find his way back to earth.

Caldwell, on the other hand, was a completely different issue. Many of the scientists claimed that the colonel would no longer be content with the decision Weir had made and would, if necessary, present his complaints to the president himself. Of course, these statements were only rumors, but you never knew where blind envy could lead.

So, with a bad feeling, McKay got back to work. He would probably pull an all-nighter again because his team obviously had more important things to do, or better, to discuss and just as he was about to turn on his laptop, Rodney noticed that the doors openend.

"Zelenka, I really don't feel like talking to you about Kavanagh or Caldwell at the moment. Yes, both are idiots and no, I've noticed that from the beginning."

His eyes had never left the work station because he was too busy entering new parameters for a simulation, which would have been the task of Dr. Cassner, who was definitely sitting in the mess hall with her colleagues to keep herself up to date instead of doing her job. If he had hired her for gossiping, the woman would probably have won a nobel by now.

"Did you at least bring me coffee?"

But before he got an answer, Rodney was roughly grabbed by the arm and pushed against the wall with full force. In front of him wasn't Zelenka with a mug of steaming coffee, as expected, but Kavanagh, who looked anything but amused when he could correctly interpret the red color of his face.

"Do you really think you can get away from me so easily, McKay? I warned you already on earth that nobody, and I repeat myself, nobody undermines my authority! Weir may have been protected by the military grunts, but you and I, we're alone and I'll show you what it means to mess with me."

Again he was pushed through his lab, which caused him to lose his balance and hit the ground hard. His back screamed in protest, but Rodney tried to pull himself up despite the pain so as not to offer any advantages to his opponent. Maybe he didn't have a chance against Kavanagh, but he wouldn't give up without a fight. He had been beaten up too often at school because he had been smarter than anyone else, so one more time wouldn't kill him, even if the man was completely crazy.

And just as McKay was trying to figure out how to surprise Kavanagh with a counterattack and call for help, someone pulled the mad man, who had come dangerously close, away from him so that the angry scientist gasped loudly as he was thrown at the work station next to him. But the fool didn't give up the struggle and with a few more targeted moves, finally Kavanagh was lying, immobilized, on the floor.

When the Canadian recovered from the incident, he could see that it was Sheppard who had come to his aid. He quickly got up and carefully approached the two men. Kavanagh, however, didn't seem to have learned his lesson and tried to free himself from John's grip despite the physical disadvantage.

"You'll reget that, both of you, I swear to god... Aagh!"

Sheppard, half seated on Kavanagh with the man's arms on his back, pressed his knee a little more into the mad scientist's spine. Ouch, McKay thought because this was definitely painful, but he couldn't care less.

"So... uhm... thanks for the rescue, but I could've freed myself, you know. I'm not completely helpless and under no circumstances should you see me as your damsel in distress."

With these words he wanted to loosen up the situation somewhat, but the desired reaction failed completely. On second sight, McKay could see that the body of Sheppard was extremely tense, his grip on Kavanagh's arms couldn't have been released, even if a Wraith would feed upon the pilot and though, one hand was loose on his sidearm, Rodney was pretty sure that the insane scientist only had to make one wrong move to seal his fate with a headshot. That's why he radioed the gate room to send a security detail to his lab to detain Kavanagh.

After a few minutes, there were already a handful of trained marines who were only too happy to take the protesting man with them and just when McKay wanted to close his door a young lieutenant with darker skin turned to him and seemed a little worried.

"Did he say a word?"

Had Rodney not been so close to the door, he wouldn't have understood the whispered question. At first, he didn't know who should have said anything, but when he mentally went through the nightly incident again, he noticed that the lieutenant was probably talking about Sheppard, because not one single syllable had come out of his mouth. If he remembered correctly, he had never heard the pilot speak, either on his first visit, or at the meeting, which was about making a decision about John's military career. He hadn't spoken once, not even Caldwell had been able to lure a word out of Sheppard when he talked about his black marks in his file. The man would have accepted the remark and the resulting consequences, but thank god Teyla and Elizabeth had picked up the fight for John. 

The only question was, didn't he want to speak or wasn't he able to?

"No."

The resigned nod didn't increase McKay's hope, either. When the lieutenant was out of sight, Rodney went back into his lab, sealed the doors behind him and saw that Sheppard was back in his favorite corner, but this time he was standing. The man still hadn't calmed down, his shoulders were tense and his eyes seemed to scan the room over and over again as if there was a hidden danger somewhere.

McKay didn't know John and did not know how he would react to external stimuli, but he had to do something. He couldn't just leave the pilot in his lab and ignore him until he would go away, but he had no idea what he should do, either.

Since his employment Rodney had learned, that many soldiers found it extremely difficult to get back to normality after dangerous missions and to be honest, Sheppard had been through more than just one long operation. This man in front of him had had to fight for his life and that of his soldiers for a whole year. No matter whether it was the Wraith or the simple task of getting food, the decisions had always been made by John and accordingly, he had to live with them and the following consequences. 

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be on your own for so long. McKay often worked more than he should, forgot to eat or to sleep and worked on a important projects until he either finished them or broke down from exhaustion, but with Sheppard, they talked about a whole new level. 

Rodney shook his head. He had to keep in mind that Sheppard hadn't only become a commanding officer involuntarily after he had had to shoot his own supervisor, but also had been suddenly at war with space vampires and had to constantly fight against the Genii, completely without help of the Air Force or other earth-bound organisations. It was amazing enough that the pilot still stood in front of him with a clear mind. Anyone else would have hidden themselves in a closet, crying, after a few month or would have spent the rest of their lives in a mental hospital. But not Sheppard, he was the epitome of a stand-up kind of guy. He had fought, had found allies and had been able to equip his men with the most necessary things.

This realization made McKay smile. John was indeed a true fighter, so it was all the more important that he finally found a place where he could feel safe and if it had to be his lab, then please, so be it.

Slowly, Rodney walked towards the pilot, internally he was afraid that he would suffer the same fate as Kavanagh if he moved too hastily, and after his previous fall, god knew he had no desire to kiss the floor again.

"I don't know about you, flyboy, but I think the danger is over. What do you think? So.. how about we take a deep breath and go get a coffee?"

The question apparently had its effect, because Sheppard actually looked at him, but not as Rodney would have liked to. John had broken out of his trance-like state and was no longer looking for enemies in the room which did not exist, but now he was completely fixated on McKay. 

"Okay, so no coffee? But I know where to get the good stuff!"

He didn't get an answer, but Rodney's nervousness seemed to amuse Sheppard at least a little. A slight smile appeared on his face and as if someone had flipped a switch, all tension was removed from the pilot. His shoulders relaxed, sagged resignedly and his willingness to fight also seemed to have disappeared, only the man hadn't yet found his voice again, but the scientist could live with that.

McKay went up to John again, this time a little more confidently and gently put a hand on the soldier's arm. Sheppard flinched briefly at the touch, but otherwise made no attempt to get rid of Rodney in any way, which was a small victory for the Canadian.

"If you don't want to drink anything, it's your loss! Don't think that I'll make you such an offer again. There's too little of the good stuff in Atlantis for that. Just one more thing, could you move to the couch and not standing around so stiffly in my lab. Thank you. If I had wanted something like that, I could've placed a plant in here."

However, the pilot didn't move, hestitantly glancing back and forth between Rodney and the couch, just as if he was wondering whether the offer could be real or whether McKay could've made a vicious joke. 

The Canadian was irritated. Had he said something wrong? Maybe Sheppard didn't like being ordered around, which was bullshit when you looked at his choice of career. The man was military. 

So, what was wrong?

But before Rodney could ask, John mad the decision, shook his head and sat down slowly in his corner. 

"Okay, if you really want to be a houseplant, then I can't change it but don't complain if you're back hurts. I shouldn't care anyway! I told you my thanks, I even offered you my coffee and the couch. A man can't do more than that."

Annoyed, McKay turned around. It was definitely not his problem when the stubborn flyboy really wanted to sit on the ground like a dog. He was a brilliant scientist, not a babysitter and wouldn't start with it now, even if said pilot had saved him and probably prevented him from having to go to the infirmary with a broken nose and a black eye. 

Sighing, he sat down at his desk and continued with his simulation, which was so rudely interrupted by Kavanagh. The parameters were entered quickly, but after a while Rodney realized that he wasn't wholeheartedly involved as usual. Again and again, his thoughts wandered to Sheppard, who was still sitting in the corner in complete silence.

Brief glances at the man showed that although John seemed relaxed, McKay could see that he couldn't let down his guard. His eyes continuosly scanned the room as if he were expecting some enemies to appear out of nowhere and attack them both. It was also clearly visible that the pilot wasn't moving at all. Not an inch. The man was not only as mute as a fish, but also made real competion for a stony statue. Always with his back to the wall, Sheppard looked like a big cat waiting for its prey. Which was probably the case here.

McKay didn't know why, but the need to help him grew and not only because the pilot had protected him from that mad scientist, but also it was evident that John had reached the limits of his strength, and not for the first time. If he continued at this pace Sheppard would really drop dead in the middle of the day. Even now the man looked more like a skeleton than a healthy person.

They were rebuilding Atlantis with almost enough men, more help had already been ordered and a clear chain of command had been worked out, so why didn't flyboy lean back for a bit and let others do the work. Even Rodney, probably the biggest workaholic on earth, knew when to stop or when he could continue working for an hour, no one needed a dead scientist after all, but apparently John had forgotten this particular skill. 

McKay couldn't imagine what it had taken to survive without help for a whole year and not only to ensure his own saftey, no, he also had had to worry about those who were under his command, to protect an entire ancient city and take care of Teyla's people who had been accidently caught in the crossfire of the Wraith while trying to save Sumner, but Sheppard did survive and he had to come back to a, for him, new reality. He should live in the here and now.

The Canadian hesitantly looked at the couch and slowly the enlightment came to him, too. John was a caring person with a big heart, which he had proven more than once and when the pilot had seen Kavanagh throwing him across the room, he would of course leave the comfortable piece of furniture to Rodney. This man would rather sit on the floor, as you could see, than to think about his own needs.

Who knew how often Sheppard had done that. Just as they had found Atlantis back then, damaged and flooded, beds had definitely been more a rarity than today and intended for the injured people and children. So it was probably a kind of standard to sit in a dark corner somewhere and wait until you found some peace or were murdered in your sleep.

McKay swallowed hard and looked at his human houseplant. John hadn't changed his position a bit and was still sitting rigidly in his lab. 

"You can be really stubborn if you want, right?"

But Sheppard didn't know that he could also be a thick-headed bastard as well. 

His sister had always said how their mother had had to use new tactics each time to get Rodney away from his math books and to put him into bed, or at least to make sure that he didn't internalize the learning material for the whole semester within 24 hours. The best thing to do had been to use reversed psychology or to show that Jeannnie had got a bigger piece of cake for dessert because she had gone to bed on time the night before.

Unfortunately, he didn't have a cake, so the other trick had to be used.

He got up cautiously, still careful not to accidentally wake up John's fighting instincts when he was frightened and sat down quietly next to the exhausted pilot, for which he only earned a short, confused look. Searching for a comfortable position, McKay strechted out his legs and cursed himself inwardly for not taking a pillow with him.

"You know, Colonel, I'm somehow not quite at the point today. Maybe a change of perspective will help. What do you think?"

Underlining, the scientist waved his tablet and got to work. The new position didn't help, of course, but at least Rodney no longer had the nagging feeling that he was idly watching as his human houseplant suffered silently in his lab.

In the end, two hours passed before McKay noticed a difference in John's posture. Bit by bit, the pilot's upper body moved closer to him and his first thought was that Sheppard might be cold, the the man subconsciously looking for body heat and was about to jump up to get his guest a blanket.

Luckily, he didn't follow his impulse and looked closely at John instead. The pilot wasn't in need for warmth, but fell asleep and now leaned slightly against Rodney.

For a moment, the Canadian didn't know what to say. Normally he would have woken every other person up and probably chased them away by saying that they should lie down in their own bed, but the word 'normal' had lost its meaning for McKay. 

On earth he would never have sat on the floor for a stranger for hours and waited next to him, just so that the person wouldn't feel alone. Even for his sister he wouldn't have gone so far in his childhood, but now, everything had changed.

He slowly moved closer, put John's head in a more comfortable position and sighed. 

It was going to be a long night.

****

On the ninth day, he had given up getting a word out of the man. 

After military operations, flyboy with the crazy hair came to his lab, lay down on his couch and closed his eyes. The clicking of his keyboard and the muttered complaints about his colleagues seemed to have something soothing for him. Rodney wasn't one who was good with other people, but if he could give the pilot some rest before the long-lasting war against the Wraith started again, he was only too happy to do so and of course there was no intention of giving the exhausted man gentle strokes through his hair as his sleep became restless.

So again, McKay had a nightly visit today after a supposedly simple mission, which originally had included the exchange of grain for medication, ended in complete chaos. 

As it turned out, the villagers were Wraith worshipers and had wanted to lure people to their planet with false pretenses and nice promises so that their masters would no longer suffer from hunger and could feed themselves.

Luckily no one was seriously injured and Sheppard's team got away with a few bruised ribs.

That was also the reason why the pilot sat again in his usual corner and pressed himself firmly against the wall of Rodney's lab. It was now a well-known ritual between the two of them. When John voluntarily lay down on the couch next to the numerous whiteboards the world was all right, as far as the current situation in Atlantis could be described in that way, but when the man was feeling upset and tense, he sat down in his spot on the floor and did not move until he fell asleep.

The scientist briefly closed his eyes. His heart broke every time when he saw the other man suffer like that. Sheppard had been able to recover a bit and thanks to McKay's care, some might call it persistence, he had even gained weight which particularly pleased Carson, but the deep, dark circles under his eyes were as if they were chiseled in stone. To little sleep, too much stress and the memories of the past year tore at the pilot's will power.

The Canadian would never forget the evening when Sheppard had appeared in his lab covered in blood. Rodney had been so shocked that he had first suspected that it had been John's blood. He had quickly searched the man for possible injuries, had informed Beckett and had yelled at the pilot, asking him in pure panic why he'd preferred to drag himself half-dead into his rooms than to look for a professional.

The thought that John might have died in his arms still brought him to his knees. 

However, as it had turned out, it hadn't been Sheppard's blood but that of a young marine. The mission at the time had demanded everything from the pilot.

His team had been lured into an insidious ambush by the Genii when Koyal's people tried to use their hostages to force access to Atlantis by putting explosives on a marine. They had made it back except for the young man.

The pilot had gone back again after making sure that Teyla and Ford had been brought to safety through the gate, but it had been too late.

Sheppard had been able to shoot Koyla's soldier who had been holding the young man, unfortunately they hadn't known that the trigger for the explosives had been a dead-man switch. The marine had exploded in front of John's eyes before he even could lift a finger.

Apparently, after this traumatic event, the pilot had gone straight to Rodney, who had held him in his arms all night. He hadn't care that his shirt had been messed up as well with the blood of a dead stranger because every time he had briefly let go of the pilot he had been afraid that Sheppard would yet still die and as long as the other man had been leaning against him and feeling his heartbeat, McKay had been able to relax at least a little bit, which probably also had had a positive effect on John because after tense hours the man had fallen asleep.

This kind of missions were unfortunately not uncommon in the Pegasus galaxy, which each of them had had to learn quickly.

So Rodney sat down next to Sheppard and continued to work until after an hour or so, John suddenly took his hand.

The scientist looked confused at the other man because normally the shy colonel wasn't a fan of touching, but before he could say anything he could sense a tingle in his hand, as if hundreds of ants were crawling on his palm and surprisingly it was not uncomfortable at all. He could feel that his heartbeat slowed down and a faint hum appeared in his mind, which seemed to say that everything was fine, that he shouldn't worry.

"What are you doing?"

Sheppard shook his head and let go of the wall, an action which caused the hum and the tingling to disappear. Only when the other man's hand touched the wall again, the pleasant sensation came back.

"Why are you touching the wall? It doesn't make any sense unless... Wait! Are saying that the city..."

Rodney couldn't finish his sentence because the thought alone that Atlantis spoke to him through John in a way, in which otherwise only sentient beings were able to, was fantastic, almost too be good to be true.

It made sense. The city could be controlled by thoughts but McKay would never have thought that these old walls could have such intelligence.

He had only completed his gene therapy in the last few days and Carson had assured him several times that it has been a full success. Due to the stress, however, he hadn't been able to test it yet. Apparently the old lady had perceived the ancient gene in his body and Sheppard was now able to pass this feeling on, which didn't surprise him if one should keep in mind that the man was lighting up ancient technology like a Christmas tree. 

"Atlantis wants to reassure us, who would have thought."

McKay couldn't help but laugh a little and even Sheppard had a weak smile on his face.

For some time they were just sitting there and enjoying the pleasant tingling sensation in comfortable silence and when Rodney briefly closed his eyes, another thought occurred to him. 

Could it be that Atlantis could not only calm you down, but also warn you of danger?

"Is that why you came to my lab? Did the city lead you to me?"

Of course, McKay got no answer from the pilot but it didn't matter. The hum in his head clearly took over that part and sent him a encouraging feeling und the smile on the other man's face grew.

For a moment, the world was okay and Atlantis had a real chance to survive, McKay was sure of that.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any spelling mistakes. English isn't my native language.


End file.
